


Thursdays Angel

by Article13



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Supernatural, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angel Castiel (Supernatural), BAMF Avengers, BAMF Castiel (Supernatural), Castiel is Cassiel, I'm Bad At Tagging, Light Angst, Mentions of Past Torture, Naomi is a bitch, Post-Civil War, Tag characters as they appear, The Avengers Are Good Bros, Winchesters wont show up for a while, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:22:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23327692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Article13/pseuds/Article13
Summary: (This is my first fic, so constructive criticism is both needed and wanted.)Set at the end of season 12After beign stabbed in the back by Lucifer, Castiel wakes up completly healed in the alleyway of a random new york street. Slowly realising that this earth is not his own, The angel sets of to find a way home.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 15
Kudos: 69





	Thursdays Angel

**Author's Note:**

> ( I'm both new to writing fanfiction and to writing on this site, so any advice I'll gladly take and attempt to implement into my writing. Also I use British English spelling so don't be surprised if you see it, but ill try to keep the characters as American as I can)

Chapter 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A void of absolute nothingness surrounded Castiel, blanketing him in its warmth and covering every inch of his form. A numbness permeated his very being, his many limbs dangling limply in every direction. Castiel floated in this state for what could have been eons or only a few seconds, the silence that trapped him erased all sense of how much time may have or may not have passed. Until suddenly all of his senses were flooded with noise, touch, and smell. The sounds of cars driving past in a hurry, horns beeping and blaring, the voices of humans conversing. The feeling of a cold breeze brushing across Castiel's vessels face, rustling his hair and the feeling of a hard yet slightly damp ground resting beneath him. The smells of days old food and other such wastes that Castiel would always remember from his human days of rifling through bins for food.

As the paralysis slowly left his body, the angel's eyes and body snapped upwards with shock and confusion. Quickly pawing his chest with frantic hands, the angel could see that while his front was covered in blood stemming from a small hole ripped in the front of his shirt, there was no wound or evidence of one. Castiel frowned in confusion as he prodded his chest, feeling of any sign of pain. 

“A wound like that should definitely have killed me” He thought, while turning his head to check his back, where a matching hole was speared through his trench coat decorating his back with blood as well. He reflexively glanced upwards to check on his wings and froze.

The displaced angel sat there in shock for a few moments before wildly spinning around to try and catch a better look of his wings, which trailed behind him. Stopping and letting his wings extend behind him, joy and confusion filled his entire being. His once bony and empty wings which were littered with the occasional burnt and broken feather, were now full and strong once more. Black glossy feathers now redecorated his wings, with the occasional deep blue glow of his grace shining through his decorating his feathers. Elated he stretched and contracted his wings, testing the muscles for strength and flight capability. Tucking his vessel into the ethereal realm, and with one mighty beat of his wings, The angel was launched upwards in the air. He laughed with a large and joyful smile on his face, the joy of his wings being healed didn't fade but he forced himself to focus back to the situation at hand, a black look falling comfortably back onto his vessel's face. He landed quickly in a nearby field, his wings flaring out to balance himself as he landed. He had been out of practice with flying and so landed slightly clumsily, accidentally knocking over a nearby tree, and scorching the grass around his landing spot and he landed at too fast of a speed. The angel flapped his wings once and then folded them comfortably against his back.

He extended his grace around him and pulled his vessel out of the ethereal realm, not just to find his location, but to try and locate any semblance of the fallen archangel, as a precaution. He was currently standing in a medium sized field looking out onto a sizable forest. The field was adjacent to a large cluster of buildings, yet he paid them no mind as he sorted through his racing thoughts. While Castiel could not think of any explanation for his healed wound or his wings being fixed, he assumed the Winchesters had something to do with it. 

Speaking of the Winchesters, he couldn't sense them either. Although that didn't worry the rebellious angel as both brothers could as easily be hiding under angel warding. He checked his pocket and brought out his phone. Another small smile slipped onto his face, taking comfort in Lucifer not getting rid of his phone. The angel wasted no time in quickly turning the touchscreen on and quickly selecting Dean's number. It rang quietly for a few moments, each completed beep adding to adding to the steadily growing pile of Castiel's worries. The final ring brought with it the dreaded automated message:

“Sorry the number you have dialled is not in service”

A cold feeling settled in a steadily growing pit in Castiel's stomach at this, quickly selecting the next number listed under Dean's name, he again waited for a few moments only to be hit with the same message. This repeated with the hunters other numbers, and even when he moved onto Sam’s small list of burner numbers. As the final message quieted, and the angel allowed his hand to fall limply by his side, he numbly realised he could also no longer hear the quiet buzzing of his siblings in the back of his metaphorical head. Castiel frantically tilted his head upwards and gripped his head tightly, dropping his phone to the ground with a soft clatter. The thought of being cut off from the radio, especially while being unable to locate the Winchesters was the last thing he needed right now he thought, panicking, reaching out with his grace to try and see if he could re-connect or establish a connection with anyone. And then he found the problem, it wasn't that he was locked out of the radio or unable to access it, he could do that just fine, it's just there was nobody else on there. Castiel tentatively sent out a panicked call into the radio, asking- no begging for anyone to respond. No answer. Castiel repeated this action, frantically calling out into the void, for anyone who could hear him, and yet he was met with more silence. He unconsciously let out a small and quiet whine, while he dropped to his knee in despair. No matter the situation, no matter how they hated him, the host always responded. Be it in cautious greeting or scornful cries, the host always responded. Now? The penetrating and all-encompassing silence was all he could hear, all he could feel. In his despair, Castiel almost didn't hear the tell-tale clicks of several guns cocking, and other nondescript weapons behind him. Key word being almost. The, sadly, familiar noises grounded him and allowed the Angel to collect his thoughts and reign in his grace, which he was accidently expelling from his vessel. The lone angel glanced backwards and spotted a group of colourfully dressed men and women standing in a circular pattern around him, staring at him with various levels of contempt and wariness. A red and gold armoured figure stepped forwards with a metallic whir and clank, and raised his glowing palms up towards the angel.

“Who the hell are you, and what are you doing on my tower?”

**Author's Note:**

> Ok ive changed and edited the final product mutiple times and this is what i eneded up with, hope anyone who reads this finds it at least entertaining. Just as a footnote, i Headcanon that angels mostly communicate with noises and wing body language, similarly to birds. 
> 
> Im a slow and weirdly unmotivated writer, so sorry but dont expect regular or schedualed updates. And while I don't expect this to get any attention, I would love any comments giving me advice or criticism)


End file.
